


A Collection of Shards

by Discreet



Category: Worm - Wildbow
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2018-12-21 11:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11942970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Discreet/pseuds/Discreet
Summary: Really, it's more of a collection of snippets and one-shots, but shards sounds cooler.





	1. Two is Better than one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask me why I did this.

"Hm."

"Well."

"Yes."

In an underground bunker, two men stared at one another, neither flinching at the odd sight that had appeared before them. They were of equal height (a rarity when they so often towered over others) and looked to be of equal weight (bone-thin). But more disconcerting they both wore the same skin-tight black bodysuit with the image of a snake coiled around their torso.

"How odd," one Coil said, tilting his head as his counterpart did the same, saying instead, "How strange."

Eyes narrowed behind masks as one man scrutinized the other.

Then with a motionless glance, they looked at the desk. First at the phone on top. Second, at the drawer where a Beretta M9 lay.

Eyes flicked back to their mirror image.

"It seems reality is not the only thing that has split this time," said one.

"Yes, which puts us in a difficult position," said the other.

Another glance at the drawer where the only item of use here lay. A phonecall would only confuse matters.

"I-"

"There-"

They both stopped, their voices overlapping. They were not used to having to talk over someone else. Much less themself.

One Coil gestured to the other, indicating he could take the lead.

Coil nodded and went ahead. "I believe we have two possible outcomes."

"And there is only one way to determine which would be most optimal."

"Yes."

"Indeed."

The two stood for a moment longer, hands folded behind backs, their eyes locked.

Reality split.

In one, the two men scrambled for the desk, reaching for the drawer that held the gun. One happened to be a step closer and grasped the handle first, but his counterpart kicked him in the side and tore the drawer open.

In the other reality, the men closed the distance between one another, hands raised to complement one another. Right arm went over left shoulder, left hand settled on the waist. They curled around one another in unison and through the silk fabric of their collective costume, they kissed.

In another reality, the two Coils grappled with the gun, the barrel pointed indeterminately up at the ceiling.

Their lips parted and Coil looked at Coil. The mask concealed their faces totally, but there was no question of what the next step would be. They reached up and pulled off the other's mask and began to work on the rest of the costume.

Coil turned his head and bit Coil on the shoulder, teeth sinking until he tasted blood. The two men reacted simultaneously, howling with pain and they fell to the ground.

They had nothing to hide, they were as nude as the day they were born. Coil coiled around Coil.

The gun went off and for a moment Coil thought he had been shot. But no, it was only the sound making his ears ring, the flash making his eyes go white, and the heat of the barrel searing his hands. The gun was still between the two men. Neither stronger or weaker than the other.

A kiss. Another. Gentle, harsh, they alternated, one playing the aggressor, the other timid.

Their fingers found the trigger together and squeezed. The gun fired once, twice, three and on and on until there was nothing but a dull click sound and they both ached in pain, their senses overwhelmed.

Coil fell off Coil, the two exhausted. A rush of air flowed between them, cooling their bodies.

"That-"

"-was-"

"-amazing."

They locked eyes and as one they nodded.

This was the best possible reality.


	2. A Romance Film

The teenagers kissed and neither one was very good at it. Chevalier pulled away and looked at Miss Militia. Their noses were nearly touching and any other girl would have blushed, but even now, Hannah only had an intense focus to her. She stared unabashed at him.

A film screen flashed overhead, a thunderstorm thrashing a wayward boat, and the light of it flickered over the two. But there was another image playing a thousand times more interesting than the movie: a shadow - as faint as smoke - of Hannah. Back hunched and fingers deftly moving, the shadow of Hannah dismantled a gun, cleaned it and then reassembled it.

Chevalier watched entranced until Hannah spoke up. "What's wrong?" She asked, her voice hushed despite the fact that the theater was near empty.

"Nothing," Chevalier said and he leaned in to kiss her again.

A little better this time, but not enough to make up for the awkward lull that had come before.

They were bad at this and they weren't improving. If anything they were getting worse. Hannah growing stiffer every time he touched her until it felt like mashing lips with a rock. And Chevalier always distracted, always looking at things no one else could see.

Chevalier sat back in his seat, staring at the movie screen, but not processing any of it. They had kissed on their third date and it had been exciting then. He could still remember the thump of his heart. But was that because of her or had he gotten worked up simply because it had been his first kiss?

He glanced at Hannah. She had gone back to watching the film. Her shadow still worked on cleaning the gun.

What was even the point?

On screen the storm ended, the sky clearing up just as port came into view. A man and a woman stood on the prow of the ship, hugging one another, shedding tears, whispering sweet words and finally kissing.

Was that how it was supposed to be? Chevalier couldn't even imagine Hannah crying. The girl defined stoic.

There was a shift in temperature. From warmth to a chill as air filled in a gap. Chevalier's hand no longer held Hannah's - she had pulled away. Truthfully, he had forgotten it was even there. Distracted, again. Always distracted.

He looked at Hannah, but she only stared at the screen, engrossed in the end credits.

Chevalier closed his eyes and sighed. There was no need to say anything. It was better this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depressing snip is depressing, there won't be much more like it in the future.


	3. Dragon's Favorite Character

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This snip takes place after Interlude 11d when Mannequins gives Colin his bloody invitation to the S9.
> 
> Don't ask why I did this.

Colin woke with a start, the flash of Mannequin leaving an after-image in his eyes.

"Welcome back." Dragon gave him a small nervous smile, her image displayed on a laptop beside his bed.

"I'm alive," Colin said, unable to hide his disbelief.

"Your heart stopped nine times on the operating table," Dragon said, "A lesser man wouldn’t have made it."

"Nine times." Colin winced, his chest aching as if he was feeling the tenth. "That bad?"

"Yeah. That bad."

Colin closed his eyes. Mannequin had really torn him apart. It was a miracle he was even alive at all.

"How'd you do it?" Colin asked.

"That..." Dragon paused and started to fidget, "That's the other thing I needed to tell you."

"What?"

"I had to improvise. You were too far-gone for conventional means and there were no healers who could possibly have gotten to you in time. I... I had to use whatever was on hand."

Colin's eyes widened. The nervousness in Dragon's voice was infectious.

"Tell me," he said, steeling himself for the worst.

"Artificial parts," Dragon said, ducking her head, "Plastic polymers, artificial muscle, cybernetics, et cetera."

Colin blinked.

"That... doesn't seem so bad," he said. Then with a grin. "Cyborgs are cool."

Dragon winced. "That's not all. I- I had to use whatever was on hand. I... Let me just show you."

A mechanical arm swiveled around the bed, a mirror was attached to its end and it angled itself in front of Colin.

Colin stared at his reflection speechless.

"This. This is me."

"I'm sorry," Dragon muttered.

The person in the mirror wasn't Colin - or at least, not the Colin he was used to seeing. For one thing, it was a girl. For another she looked like she belonged in high-school.

Colin blinked, turning his head and the girl in the reflection did the same. She had large blue eyes, polished pale skin and stylishly short blue hair. She had a gentle, but intelligent look to her. A girl blossoming into a lady. And there was something oddly familiar about this girl. The pieces slow came together, recognition forming. Colin remembered talking about a show with Dragon. A cartoon. From Japan. Featuring five magical girls who fought evil by moonlight.

Colin looked back to the laptop, where Dragon had buried her face in her hands.

"Why am I Sailor Moon?" He asked.

Dragon groaned miserably. "It's Mercury, Colin..."

* * *

[Dragon's Favorite Character](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sailor_Mercury)

[Dragon's Favorite Show](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5txHGxJRwtQ)


	4. The Nonadventures of Regent

Ah _yes_ , Gamestop still had a few copies left of _Call to Arms: Bullet's Revenge_. Alec thumbed the video game off the shelf, taking a moment to appreciate the photorealistic cover art. There was something to appreciate with the psychological leanings of these sort of promotional images. The man roaring as he charged over a ditch, a gun in each hand. The eponymous Bullet was flecked with dirt so thoroughly that it was indistinguishable from his grizzled unshaven mug. As if the man didn't ooze enough testosterone, the cover depicted him putting a boot through a Nazi's gaping gullet, tearing his head off.

Fucking _rad_.

Alec took the game and made his way to the cash register. He hummed a little tune to himself - the Call to Arm's theme song. Alec wouldn't call himself a _fan_ of the game series. Well, sure, he had bought the last six games of the series, but the story was so trash that any enjoyment Alec got out of them was almost purely ironic at this point.

Whatever. Alec went to the cashier and handed the game box over. _Beep-beep_ went the scanner and numbers flashed on the register.

"That'll be $65.21." The cashier said.

Alec nodded, only half paying attention. He dug into his pocket, looking for his wallet. The pimply-faced cashier waited impatiently, drumming his fingers against the register while Alec kept digging. And digging.

Fuck.

Alec closed his eyes. Idiot. He had left his wallet at home.

"Is there a problem?" sighed the cashier.

Alec scowled. And by scowled, he meant he frowned slightly, just a twinge of irritation. This guy was acting kinda dickish. As if he had anything better to do than his job. It's not like there was anyone else in the store!

Alec paused for a moment, considering that. Then a little more slowly, he craned his head left and then right. Yeah, no one else in the store. And his wallet was all the way back home, fifteen whole minutes away. Alec turned back to the cashier, smiling.

_Well, guess I'm robbing this bitch._

The cashier cleared his throat. "Are you gonna pay or what?"

Alec grinned at him. "Sure, just forgot there was another game I wanted to get. I'll be right back."

The cashier sighed, but didn't say anything as Alec walked away. The store wasn't big, but there was a shelf a little out of sight, enough cover for Alec to slip on his mask and tear off his shirt to reveal his costume. Just like those superheroes in the Aleph comics. To finish off the transformation, Alec pulled his scepter out from the leg of his pants (never leave home without it!) and stepped out from behind the shelf.

Regent, badass villain with an even badder past, approached the cashier again.

The barely-adult employee was engrossed with his phone and didn't notice Regent until he was standing across from him like any other customer.

"How can- the fuck?!"

Regent tapped the counter with his scepter. "This is a robbery. Open the register."

The cashier looked at Regent, bemused. "Kid, I don't know what you're thinking, but I literally just saw you-"

The cashier's head jerked back with a full-body spasm that left him gasping for breath.

"Oh wow, are you okay." Regent said deadpan, "That looked like it hurt."

"You fu-"

Another spasm, the cashier was nearly thrown to the floor as his feet kicked out.

"Hm, it seems to keep happening every time you talk and _don't_ open the register."

The cashier got to his feet, sweat thick on his brow. He glared at Regent, but it was half-hearted, more fearful than anything. Cowed, he looked away and opened the cash register.

"Good job! Now put the money in the bag."

"What baAAugh!"

Alec ignored the man's cries and pointed to one of the plastic bags with Gamestop's logo. "That bag."

Wordlessly, head bent, the cashier stuffed the bag full of money. Once full, he handed it over.

"Thanks," Regent said, taking the bag. He didn't leave just yet, though. Instead he opened the bag and began to pick at the mess of bills stuffed inside. He scrounged up four fivers, two tens and a twenty and held them all out.

The cashier stared at the money as if it was a loaded gun.

"Take it," Regent said.

The cashier reached up, but hesitated.

Regent shook the wad of cash at the man. "This isn’t some No Country For Old Men psycho bullshit, just take it."

With a trembling hand, the cashier did.

"Cool," Regent said and then he picked up his totally legally purchased copy of _Call to Arms: Bullet's Revenge_ and put it into his money-stuffed bag. Well, not totally legal, he hadn't paid tax.

But fuck the Man.

Regent stepped out of the shop, humming a tune. He'd find a nice dark alley to duck into, change out of his costume and then head home. The perfect crime.

There wasn't a lot of people out on the street at this time, working hours for most and it was a shitty part of town without much foot traffic. Maybe Regent wouldn't even need to go through the trouble of finding an alley. He could just change his clothes out here in the open for all the world to see.

Regent smirked. That was a joke. He wasn't _that_ lazy.

Just as well because someone was turning the corner. At first Regent thought it was just bad luck for some random loser. But no, this wasn't any ordinary loser. This was a cape-wannabe.

Alec sighed, so much for the perfect crime. Brian was gonna lose his shit when he heard about this. Alec examined his opponent, everything about this guy reeked of a newbie cape. The cape part was obvious, the guy was nothing but muscle. Like he had taken steroids that had taken steroids.

The newbie portion of the equation came from everything else. The shitty costume which was just regular clothes. His mask was a fucking _t-shirt_ wrapped around his head with holes cut out for the eyes. He had slight uncertainty in his step, like he expected Regent to jump up at him even though they were still like twenty yards apart. And then there was the fact that the guy was _walking_ up to Regent, just giving away any advantage of surprise, just announcing himself like a moron.

Regent already had a hand in his pocket, tapping a message into his phone.

At ten yards, the moron announced himself. "That's far enough, Regent."

"Alright," Regent replied, stopping.

The moron paused, put off by the compliance. Then he gathered himself and pointed a finger Regent's way. "Drop the money and put your hands up."

"Sure, okay." Regent dropped the bag and raised his hands.

"Drop the scepter, too."

"Come on, man,” Regent whined, “My cane? I need this to walk."

“Don’t play games with me. I know that’s a weapon.”

“What just because my disability isn’t immediately obvious you assume it isn’t there? That’s fucked up, man.”

“I’m warning you…”

Regent sighed. “Fine, what if I just sort of put it in my belt? I can’t really use it if it’s-”

“No! Put the scepter down! Now!”

“Okay, I get it. If it means that much to you then I’ll put it down,” Regent said rolling his eyes.

“Good.”

“Alright, it’s going down now.”

“Do it.”

“I don’t want to give you any funny ideas. I’m doing it slowly. No tricks.”

Regent moved the scepter downwards by a centimeter as if he was in slow motion.

“Hurry up!”

“Hey, hey,” Regent said calmly, only 10% of the way to getting to the ground, “Let’s not lose our cool here. No need to escalate the situation.”

The newbie growled under his breath.

His hand went below shoulder level. At this rate, the scepter would be on the ground in five minutes.

Unfortunately before it went any further, the newbie wised up.

“You’re stalling me.”

“What? No, I’m-”

But it was too late, the newbie wasn’t listening any more. He braced his feet and launched forward with augmented strength.

Regent’s timing was a little better, though. The instant the newbie pushed off with his feet, the lower half of his body locked up, stiff as a board. He didn’t charge at Regent, instead he went straight up into the air.

“Woah,” Regent said, covering his eyes from the sun. The newbie had gone pretty damn high. And it looked like he couldn’t fly. Regent took a few steps back.

The newbie landed with a whopping _thud_ that made the ground shake. Pavement cracked, a cloud of dust kicked up and a few car alarms went off. For a moment, Regent worried he had pasted the guy.

But from the dust, the newbie staggered out. “Bastard,” he spat and started to run for Regent.

He was so focused on Regent, he didn’t notice the car-sized blur hurtling at him. A giant dog with bulbous flesh and muscles blindsided the newbie, knocking him through the side of a building.

The giant dog barked and made to follow up on his attack when a whistle rang out, stopping the beast. Riding another giant dog was a girl wearing a leather jacket and a plastic dog mask.

Regent grinned at the sight of her. “Took you long enough.”

“Shut up,” Bitch (she chose the name, not him) said. She pointed at the dog that had smashed the newbie. “Get on and let’s go.”

“Sure, sure.” Regent walked over to pick up his bag of ill-gotten goods and then clambered onto the giant dog. The thing was massive and its muscles misshapen. It took Regent a moment to get on. “Alright, I’m-”

“Hold it!”

Regent turned and saw the newbie climbing out of the hole in the wall, he was covered in dust and bits of brick and the side of his head was leaking blood.

“You’re not going anywhere,” the newbie growled.

Regent had to admire the dude’s grit.

But he disagreed.

Regent aimed a pair of finger-guns at the wannabe-hero.

“Seizure time, bucko.”

The newbie immediately dropped in convulsions. Every oversized muscle in his freakishly huge body squeezed, tensed and twisted. The newbie twitched wildly like a puppet whose strings got caught in a fan. Overall, pretty fucking funny.

But Regent couldn’t stick around to watch. Turning to Bitch, he called out, “Let’s go!”

She whistled at the dogs and they all took off. Galloping through the streets at a blistering pace. Alec grimaced with every bump and hop. Riding a giant dog was a literal pain in the ass.

Overall, today had been a whole lot more eventful than it should have been. Walking to the store, robbing it and then fighting a superhero… Fucking exhausting.

Alec couldn’t wait to get home, sit his sore ass down and finally play _Call to Arms: Bullet’s Revenge_. Man, he was going to stomp so many Nazi faces, it was going to be awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this [WoG](https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/worm-quotes-and-wog-repository.294448/page-2#post-14729825).
> 
> Shoutout to Whispersilk for the "Seizure time, bucko" line. And I beat you to it, Lyova!


	5. Temperance

Temperance

"People never really appreciate what they have. We don't really think about being able to eat or having a home and friends and family. We take things for granted, that’s just how we are. You never think the good times will end - until they do."

Emma stared up at me, her eyes bulging white and dripping mascara. She wanted to say something or more likely, scream, but her mouth was stuffed with rags.

I looked at her without glee or malice or sadness.

"Something terrible happened to you," I said, "Mr. Barnes told me. Your life wasn't without its darkness."

I walked around her and she could only follow me as far as her eyes could move. Emma sat in a wheelchair and though nothing held her in place, she couldn't move a muscle. I took the handles of her chair and pushed.

We began to stroll through the abandoned factory, passing one vat after another.

"But does one awful incident really balance the scales? Even if we account for the weeks you spent holed up in your room, refusing to leave, being plagued with fear and so on - is that enough?"

Emma groaned through her gag, but I ignored it. We turned around a vat, the air growing warmer.

"By my measure, you've still had a lot going for you. A loving family with the means to support you and whatever you wanted to do. You managed to start a nice little modeling career with your natural good looks. You have friends, you're popular. Boys and girls alike fawn for your attention."

A ramp lay ahead of us, not one built into the factory, but something I had cobbled together beforehand. Just plank wood laid over stairs. Not the sturdiest thing and it was steep, but I would manage. I pushed Emma up.

"You have all that. And you have Sophia," I said.

Emma screamed into her gag, but it came out muffled, distant like she was yards away even when she sat right before me.

"Mr. Barnes told me. How you became friends with Sophia, how she helped you and how you helped her. It's fortunate, isn't it? Having a hero for a friend?"

We were atop the stairs on the catwalk. The heat had swelled and Emma could finally see why. The catwalk circled a vat, but unlike all the others this one was full.

"Hydrochloric acid," I explained. "Capable of melting the skin off your bones, it won't be fast, it'll be slow. Excruciating. If it touches you, even if you survive, you'll be scarred for life. No one will ever call you beautiful again."

Emma fell silent.

"I have a vat full of it, just under the boiling point and I'm sure you want to know _why_."

I started to push the wheelchair and Emma started with a gurgled cry. An overreaction. She wasn't close enough to fall in. We went around the catwalk, until we came to an open section that connected to the rim of the vat. Below us, the acid simmered.

I turned Emma around and looked at her face-to-face.

"I'm not going to kill you, Emma. I'm not going to hurt you. That's not what I do. If everything goes right, you'll walk out of here without so much as a scratch."

Emma only stared at me, eyes wide.

"But things _can_ go wrong."

The blood drained from her face.

I turned and bent down to pick up a steel rod. Long, thin, but sturdy, it scratched against my palms as I hefted it over the vat. With precision, I set it across the gap. And then I did the same for a second bar. A short little railway.

I went back to Emma and addressed her seriously. "Step one if you want to get out of this alive: Don't scream, don't blink, and try to breathe as little as possible."

Emma screamed. Wild, desperate, throat-hurting screams that went nowhere and was heard by no one.

I waited until she was done.

She lasted only a minute. She closed her eyes, exhausted with only that much exertion. I didn't wait for her to recover and pushed her forward - over the vat.

The wheels clicked onto the steel rods. There was barely any surface area for the two to connect, rounded objects both, but it was enough for me. I pushed the wheelchair forward and then stepped onto the metal rods myself. The steel cut deep into the soles of my shoes, threatening to split them in half. One wrong move, one mistaken twist and we would slip into the acid.

But that didn't happen, Emma followed step one.

I let go of her and retreated back to the catwalk. I circled the vat, coming around until I came across a control panel and I was facing Emma again. She was as still as a statue.

"The paralyzing agent will wear off soon," I said, "So I'll make this quick. There are two ways you can survive this. The first is obvious: roll your wheelchair backwards and make it back to the catwalk. The second-" I pushed a button and a hook slid along the ceiling. Attached to it was a cell phone. The hook swung in front of Emma, just out of arm's reach. "Get your phone, call your friend and maybe she'll be able to get here in time to save you."

Emma made a noise as if to say something, but it was incomprehensible. It didn't matter.

I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath and then without glee or malice or sadness, I opened them.

"I think we can consider things even now. For your good fortune and… for us. I forgive you, Emma."

She moaned piteously.

"Good luck."

I walked away and didn't look back.

\---  
\---  
\---

**TEMPERANCE** ; Taylor Hebert  
 **Disposition** : Villain (B)  
 **Classification** : Thinker 4  
A Brockton Bay local who triggered after a long stint of bullying. The ENE Protectorate was first made aware of her presence after she hunted down her chief bully and threw her into a vat of acid. While Temperance can use a super-enhanced sense of balance to be deadly in both close and long-range fights, she dislikes direct combat and will instead orchestrate elaborate deathtraps ie. falling pillars, collapsing buildings, pitfalls, etc. Recommend Brute/Mover-focused heroes to handle her.


	6. Scion Rescues a Cat

Robbery at a bank.

Apartment on fire.

Murder in progress.

Cat stuck in the tree.

The list never ended. Scion adjusted his course, heading to the next item in his queue. Most of the time, the tasks expired before he could get to them. The murder in progress was now simply a murder - no longer a crime to prevent, but one to punish. Catch a murderer shifted to the bottom of the list.

It would be a while until he got to it, but Scion remembered the words of Kevin Norton: Do good.

He blasted into the lobby floor of the bank, a man in a rainbow-colored cape gaped at him, a sack of cash in his hand. A single stilling wave from Scion's hand dropped the villain and the cash spilled out on the floor. The people within gasped in astonishment, their reflexes too slow to really appreciate what had just happened in front of their eyes.

Scion took a moment to digest their reactions, the humans moving in slow motion as they gradually registered what happened. Their emotions came as an explosion of endorphins rushing into their brain. They clapped their hands and they shouted, a few started to rush towards him to clasp him.

Scion was gone before they were even in arm's reach of him. The apartment building still burned. With a wave of his hand, the flames went suddenly cold and then out altogether. This one, Scion did not even bother to linger. He could not say why, only that the next task seemed that much more urgent.

With Scion's speed it was not a feeling of acceleration, but more a sense of the world rotating around him. He did not need to aim himself, did not need to focus on his path. When he wanted to move somewhere, he moved there, that was all.

Scion snapped into place just below a tree where a little girl rubbed at her eyes, moaning about her cat.

"M-m-mister Whiskers," the girl sobbed.

The sounds registered in Scion's mind in a thousand different variations. He analyzed it against his knowledge of human language, history and culture. The respectful connotations of "Mister", the dictionary definition of "Whiskers" as well as its more esoteric innuendos. He also checked the combination of the two words together and came with a laundry list of uses referring to it. Finally, he cross-referenced the two words with the girl's history, her life in its entirety playing out before his eyes. Altogether he was able to cobble together a conclusion with 97% certainty that "M-m-mister Whiskers" referred to the orange calico cat currently cowering in the tree above him.

The girl looked up from her tears, noticing him for the first time. "Huh?"

Scion didn't acknowledge her, that would only delay the appropiate response to this situation. Instead he focused on his task. He floated up until he was level with the cat and picked it up.

The cat hissed at him, struggling in his hands, totally unaware that he was saving it.

Scion let a stilling wave pass over the cat and it went limp in his hands like a wet noodle.

"AAAAH! YOU KILLED MISTER WHISKERS!" The girl screamed her lie.

Scion hovered down to her and held out the cat, but the girl only backed away, crying and shouting worse than ever.

"YOU MONSTER, YOU KILLED HIM! HOW COULD YOU!"

The prepubescent human charged at him, her eyes scrunched tight, her fists swinging in windmill fashion. A quick scan of the chemical responses of her brain and a check on past human behavior made it clear to Scion that she was trying to attack him.

That was undoubtedly a "bad" thing to do.

Scion remembered what Kevin Norton said.

He raised his hand and shot another stilling wave. The girl's legs turned to jelly and she dropped like a rock, suddenly unconscious. She lay like a puddle at his feet and Scion wondered for a moment what he was supposed to do here.

He had rescued her cat, but then she had attacked him. How could he return the cat to her while she was unconscious?

A dilemma. Scion considered it carefully.

Somewhere in the world bombs fell on people.

The list was only getting longer.

With no other option presenting itself and with his vast library of human experience, Scion concluded the best course of action would be to act as though nothing had happened at all. He floated back up to the tree and deposited the paralyzed cat on the branch where he had found it. Then, he looked back at the girl. With a nudge of his foot, he reset her position to what it originally was.

They would wake simultaneously, the events that had occurred just now only a vague dream.

This was maybe not "good" as Kevin Norton described it.

But it was kind of okay.

Scion flew away, a golden blur in the sky.


	7. Fantasie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria takes Amy out shopping.
> 
> Everyone has a great time.

Victoria looked herself over in the mirror, appraising the blue sundress. She turned, examining her side-profile, but it was no more impressive.

"I don't know, Ames, I don't think blue's my color," Victoria said.

Amy frowned. "You don't like it?"

Aw crud, Victoria recognized that look. "No, no, it's great," she said quickly, "I'm just not sure if I have any clothes that really go with this."

"Yeah, you're right," Amy said, sounding defeated, "Sorry, I wasn't really thinking."

Victoria's lips clamped tight. Damnit, damnit, damnit. The one day she actually managed to drag Amy out to go shopping and she was making it a total disaster. This called for drastic measures.

Victoria put on a big smile and a bit of her aura pulsed before she reigned it in. "Welllll, if I don't have any clothes to go with this dress, you know what that means, right?"

Amy looked up, eyebrow quirked. "What?"

"We'll just have to find _more_ clothes!" Victoria laughed and hooked her arm with Amy's, diving back into the clothing store.

They ransacked a rack of jackets, raided a pile of skirts, and scoured clean a stand of hats. Victoria practically flew from one pile to another, each time checking in with Amy, coaxing her sister to pick between this and that. Every bit of clothing was a different shade of blue.

By the end of it, Victoria was pretty sure she spied the beginnings of a smile on her sister's face. Mission accomplished. The fact that Victoria had nearly doubled her wardrobe was only a nice little bonus.

She hummed a little tune as she hauled her hard-earned goods out of the story, the cashier even going so far as to walk them out and say good-bye. Oh yes, the people on the Boardwalk loved the Dallons. And why shouldn't they?

Victoria bumped against Amy, nuzzling her sister as their hands clasped together.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" Victoria said.

Amy smiled. A real, lip-turning smile!

"Yeah, it was," Amy said.

A happy little thrill went through Victoria. That quiet admission had been hard-earned and finally getting it was like nabbing a dozen villains all at once. Victoria beamed, glowing with sisterly pride.

"We should keep going," she said abruptly.

Amy blinked. "What?"

"Let's do something else!" Victoria said, "It's still early, we don't have to go shopping or whatever, let's do something else!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, what do you want to do? We've done my thing, what about you?"

Amy shrugged. "I don't really have a _thing_."

"Oh come on, everyone has a _thing_. What do you want to do?"

Amy's hand flinched in Victoria's. Just a quick squeeze. "I don't know," she said, "I just... I like this. I like doing what you like to do."

Ugh, a totally corny, _boring_ answer. There had to be _something_. Victoria started to say as much, but stopped in the nick of time.

If she said that, it'd probably hurt Amy's feelings. And Victoria had to remind herself that was absolutely not allowed today.

"Okay, fine," Victoria said, "Then what I want to do is... go to the beach!"

"But we don't have our swimming suits?"

"Who needs them? Come on!" Victoria turned on her sister, hoisting her up into a princess carry.

"Vicky whaAAAAH!"

They took off, soaring over the shops and restaurants of the Boardwalk. It was a feeling that never got old. Victoria grinned. Amy had met all the height requirements for the Glory Girl Rollercoaster and now it was time for a ride.

Victoria refrained from doing any loop-de-loops - Amy never took those well, but that didn't mean they couldn't have a good time. Victoria climbed higher up into the air. And right when Amy started to say something, Victoria dived downwards.

"VICKYYYY!"

They plunged downwards until at the very last moment, Victoria leveled out and they soared just overhead a few stunned tourists. Amy gasped for breath.

"Vicky, you, you aaah! Hahahaha!" Amy erupted into a fit of laughter and hugged Victoria tight. "You scared the _crap_ out of me."

Laughter! From Ames! Once again, Victoria felt a swell of pride. Was she the best sister ever or what? She made sure to actually ask this.

"Am I the best sister ever or what?"

"You are!" Amy managed between giggles, "You're the best."

Victoria grinned and they came out to the ocean. The sun was just starting to set and most of the tourists were packing it in. Victoria brought them a little closer to the water and slowed down, gliding low over the waves.

The view was majestic. They had seen it a thousand times before, they had grown up in Brockton Bay after all, but somehow this time felt different.

"Ames," Victoria said, "You know I-"

" _Hey! Hey! Hey! Where you been?_ " A sugar-pop tune played out from the depths of Victoria's pocket. Victoria growled in frustration and fished her phone out. She flipped the screen in front of her.

Gallant. Dean, her boyfriend. Victoria sighed. He was calling from his cape number, so she probably needed to pick this up.

Victoria was about to mutter an apology and check in with her boyfriend when she noticed a dark look had come over Amy's face. Any joy or mirth from the past few minutes had evaporated and been replaced with a sullen glare.

There was a pang in her heart and Victoria shook her head. What was she thinking? She couldn't ruin this moment with a phone call!

"Ugh, Ames," Victoria groaned, "I'm sorry, I should've muted my phone. Whatever Dean has to say, it can wait."

Amy glanced up at her. "You're sure?"

Victoria smiled. "Yeah. Forget him." She tossed the phone over her head and it plopped into the ocean. "Today's your day and nothing's interrupting that."

Amy smiled back and wrapped her arms a little tighter around Victoria.

They flew over the ocean, veering slowly away from the shore. The rolling waves crashed softly below them, a steady hypnotic sound.

"Hey," Amy spoke up, her voice quiet, "What were you going to say earlier?"

"What?"

"Before your... before the phone call?"

"Oh," Victoria flushed. "It'll be weird to say it now."

"Weird?"

"Yeah, y'know. The timing's off."

Amy gave a small patient smile. "I don't mind."

Victoria felt something flutter inside her. It was an invitation. Hinted at, but clear as day. Victoria immediately felt silly. Why was she holding back with Ames? They should share everything with each other.

"Ha, okay, it'll probably sound stupid, but whatever," Victoria said, her cheeks still tinged red, "I was just going to say that I love you. Like I probably don't say it enough, but... yeah. I love you, Ames."

"Vicky..."

"I know we haven't hung out as much as we used to. You've been busy at the hospital and y'know, I'm out patrolling the streets most the time and spending the rest with Dean. I feel like I barely see you anymore and I just missed you." Victoria smiled at her sister.

Amy kissed her.

Victoria's head flung back and they halted mid-air. "Amy! What the fuck!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I thought -- I don't know! You were saying all these things!"

Victoria opened her mouth to scream more expletives, but she stopped as a wave of guilt crashed into her. She sagged in the air, her toes touching the water for a second before she recovered. God, what had Victoria been doing? How could she not have realized what her sister wanted sooner? What was _wrong_ with her? Any and all "best sister" accolades rescinded now and forever.

"Ames," Victoria said, "Ames, no, no, it's fine. I'm sorry, it's my fault. It's my fault, do you hear me? I should have realized sooner."

Amy stared, her breath coming hard and fast.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"It's my fault, Ames. I've been so selfish all this time. Totally self-absorbed and ugh, all those times I was with Dean, it must have been so hard for you. I'm so, so sorry, Ames. I should make it up to you. No, I will. I'll-"

 _Beep, beep, beep_. Another phone. Victoria flashed with irritation, her aura oozing hostility, who the _hell_ had the nerve to interrupt her time with Ames?

Amy pulled the phone out of her pocket and Victoria instantly felt foolish.

"It's mom," Amy said.

"Oh," Victoria said, not really sure how to feel about that.

Amy declined the call. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she let the phone drop into the ocean. Ka-ploonk. The water ate it up.

"Let's go somewhere," Amy said.

Victoria blinked. "Go somewhere?"

"Yeah, let's just _go_. Some place far away. Where no one will know us, where we can just start over."

"But-"

Victoria stopped, her voice caught in her throat. Any mention of their family, their friends or Dean suddenly seemed so unimportant. Victoria shook her head, wiping away the brief moment of doubt. If this was what Ames wanted, then Victoria would deliver.

"Okay," Victoria said, "How about France? I always wanted to see Paris."

"Paris?" Amy broke out into a smile. The biggest and brightest one today. "How romantic."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case, it wasn't clear.
> 
> This is a horror story.


	8. The Parahumans Trading Card Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ultimate Game of Cunning and Skill! Will you be a Hero or a Villain?
> 
> Only $4.99 for a booster pack
> 
> Or buy a complete desk for as low as $24.99
> 
> Ages 10 and up
> 
> Brought to you by Hazmo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Bailey Matutine

Zed slapped a card down on the battlemat, on it was the picture of a muscular shirtless man with a dragon mask.

"I summon Lung!" Zed declared, "The Patient Dragon!"

"Lung?" Edi smirked from across the table, she thumbed through the cards in her hand. "As if I'd let you build up his power level. I play Skitter the Bug Queen!" She slapped her own card down. "And with her special ability of _Escalation_ she attacks immediately!"

" _Immediately_? What!" Zed leaned over and flipped the card around to read the text. "Oh that is so bullshit."

"Don't be jealous just cause you don't have a Skitter card. She's the best."

"Hah, the best? Don't be ridiculous. I have a hundred cards that could take her easy."

Edi smiled, "Don't underestimate her."

Zed rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat, reassessing his hand. After a brewing silence, he picked out a card and slammed it down. The battlemat slid a little off the table. The bang drew a few stares from other people in the cafeteria, but no one really cared.

"Oh, whoops," Zed said. He took a moment to readjust the battlemat, before coughing. "Ahem, I summon Bakuda the Mad Bomber! And because of her _Bond_ with Lung, she summons bonus minions alongside herself."

"Bonus minions," Edi rolled her eyes, "What is this, amateur hour?" She had an easy answer for that already prepared. "I play the condition card: Megalomania! Bakuda wastes her attacks on her own minions and loses her next turn!"

" _What!_ " Zed shot up to his feet. "That's _such_ bullshit!"

"If you say so," Edi said, calmly, a smile on her face, "Go ahead and read the card."

"Oh, I will." Zed snatched the card from her and scanned the text quickly.

"Uggghhhh," he groaned and flung the card at the mat.

"I'm glad you approve," Edi said as she used her Skitter card to take out the distracted Bakuda.

"Just you wait," Zed muttered, "I'm gonna beat you and I'm going to start with that damn Skitter card of yours."

"By all means," Edi replied coolly.

The two played on. Zed's frustration grew. If Zed summoned the Brockton Bay Protectorate, then Edi shot back with a team of her own: the Undersiders and though normally Zed's team would beat Edi's ten out of ten times, she always had the perfect condition card to counter him. Bureaucracy and Overconfidence showed up quite a lot, so much so that Zed had to demand Edi shuffle her deck. And damn her, she did, whistling a little tune as she did.

The game went on and on like that, closer than what it felt like because although Edi seemingly had answers for every card he played, Zed still had the first-turn advantage. And the cards he played were always big enough threats that they demanded addressing. His Leviathan card devastated Edi's defenses, then Jack Slash and the Slaughterhouse Nine wreaked more havoc. Yes, they were driven back eventually, and the damn Skitter card was _still_ on the field, but Zed could see it. Edi's veneer of unflappable calm was cracking, she was losing more and more resources with each fight. She wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer.

Zed drew his next card and knew he had the beginning of the end.

"Well, Edi, I have to commend you, really I do," Zed said.

Edi rolled her eyes, "Why, _thank you_ , Zed. Now are you going to play your turn or what?"

"Oh sure, of course, I just wanted to appreciate this moment, y'know. I need to mentally prepare myself so that I never forget the look on your face when you lose."

"Holy crap, do you ever stop talking?"

"Alright, alright," Zed grinned, "If you're so impatient to experience your loss, I won't keep you waiting any longer." He snagged the card between two fingers and rose it up above his head like a sword.

Zed lowered his voice. "I summon..."

"Oh, god, you are such a dork.

"SCION! THE GOLDEN MAN!" The card came down with a crash, rattling the whole table.

"Oh cool," Edi said monotone, "Good for you. So all fights are cancelled for this turn?"

Zed grinned, "No, no, no, my dear Edi. Scion _normally_ cancels all battles occurring, but in this instance I have Jack Slash on the field and if you recall, last turn you downed him."

Edi's face paled.

 _Not so calm and collected now, are you?_ Zed thought with satisfaction.

"That's right!" Zed shouted for the whole world - and cafeteria - to hear. "I have activated Scion's _Gold Morning_ event!"

"Shit," Edi muttered, she shook her head, "Well, good game, I guess." She started to collect her cards.

"No!" Zed shouted.

Edi raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'no'? I concede, you win. Congrats, you nerd."

"No," Zed shook his head, "The game's not over until I direct Scion's attack to strike your Shard Pool."

"Uh, so? Scion can do that whenever he wants."

"No," Zed grinned. "He does it when _I_ want." He picked up the Golden Man card and directed it at Edi's cape army. "Scion obliterates half of your capes!"

"Only half? What the hell?"

Zed's grin widened. "I'm going to pick you apart piece by piece, Edi. I'm going to make you regret ever challenging me."

Edi stared at Zed.

"I could just walk away from the table, y'know."

"What?" Zed blinked, "No, no, no, please, don't!" He launched himself forward onto the table, hands clasped together, "Please, Edi, let me have this! You always win, it's not fair, let me just enjoy this victory, just this once, please, please, please?"

Edi stared at him for a long second.

Finally, she sighed. "Ugh, fine. If only because there's nothing else to do until lunch is over."

"Thank you!" Zed grin returned and he picked up his cards. After looking them over, he added, "By the way, Scion is going to kill Grue."

"What?!"

"Yeah, he gets obliterated."

" _Seriously_?"

"Sorry, Edi, that's the game."

"Ugh, fine," Edi picked up Grue's card, her eyes lingering on his muscular build for a moment before she set him into the graveyard.

"Okay, your turn," Zed said cheerfully.

Edi's eyes narrowed.

She would have to play this just right.

The game went on, far longer than it had any right to go. Zed had victory in hand as soon as he had gotten Scion on his side of the board, but he insisted on not ending the game. He toyed with her fast-dwindling capes with sadistic glee and Edi was forced to play along. Her one fear was that he would lose patience and finish off the Skitter card that had hounded him for so long, but Zed held off. He would lick his lips as he eyed Skitter, but he refused to actually kill her, it seemed he was intent on saving her for last.

A critical mistake.

"And there, Scion slices the knees off half your capes and I end my turn."

Edi smiled.

"I win," she said.

Zed blinked. Then laughed. "Haha, Edi! What are you talking about?"

"I win," she repeated.

Zed shook his head. "Is this shock? Are you alright, Edi? I know you are of delicate complexion, but-"

"God, shut up, Zed. I'm saying I win. Go ahead and look at Skitter's card."

"Skitter?" Zed looked down at the Bug Queen card. "I was saving her for last, but if you prefer I kill her now..."

"I'm saying read the text, you doofus!"

"Hm, if you insist." Zed lifted the Skitter card and started to read.

"It's under _Escalation_."

Zion raised an eyebrow. "A very good ability, but I don't see anything that would let you win."

"Open the flap."

"The flap?" Zed squinted and then spotted it. A bump in the card. He dug a nail in and fingered it loose. A zig-zag staircase of paper poured out, miniaturized text filling every bit of space.

"What the fuck!" Zed shouted. the extra text spilled out onto the floor.

Edi grinned.

"Check under Section 30.1."

"You're fucking joking."

"Not at all."

Zed glowered at her for a moment before eventually turning back to the card. He juggled through the card text until finally he found the section.

"Read it aloud," Edi instructed him.

A pit formed in the bottom of Zed's stomach as he did.

"' _Escalate the Escalation_ : If Skitter Unleashed, Clairvoyant, Doormaker and Jailbroken Panacea are all on the same side of the board, transform Skitter into Khepri.'"

Zed looked up at Edi who was grinning ear-to-ear.

"Now check Section 30.6."

"' _Khepri_ : If Khepri and Scion are both on board, destroy...'"

The card slipped from Zed's fingers.

Edi bent down and swiped her Skitter card back, dragging the long line of card text along.

"'Destroy Scion and eliminate the player who summoned him,'" Edi recited from memory.

"No," Zed whispered.

"Yes," Edi said.

"No."

"Hahaha." Edi started to back up, collecting her deck together.

"No! NO! NO! NONONONO!"

Zed screamed, his voice breaking octaves, he threw his hands up, threw them down into the table with a loud bang.

"THIS IS BULLSHIT!"

He grabbed the edge of the table and flipped it over. Cards went flying everywhere.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Edi skipped away, her cards already in hand, laughing all the while.

"I told ya Skitter's the best."


	9. A Nice Jacket

Aisha's mom lay spread-eagled on the bed, half-buried under a man Aisha didn't recognize. It couldn't have been comfortable, but somehow neither of them seemed to mind, both of them snoring away.  
  
Aisha tip-toed deeper into the bedroom, navigating around strewn beer cans and crumpled plastic baggies. Her goal was on the other end of the room, the nightstand furthest from the door.  
  
The man, pot-bellied with a grungy beard, snorted and groaned. He stirred and scratched at his protruding stomach. Once the itch was satisfied, his hand fell back down with a soft _plop_ as it hit Aisha's mom across the chest.  
  
"Mmm." Aisha's mom frowned, but didn't open her eyes. The two of them snored on.  
  
Aisha let out a breath and quietly made her way to the nightstand. She put her nails into the edge and slowly drew the drawer out. Inside was a fungal growth of plastic bags, they stuffed the drawer to the brim, each one containing a different variety of kush, pills and powder.  
  
It wasn't supposed to be this full. Aisha glanced at her mom's new boyfriend. It seemed she did know him after all. He was her mom's dealer.  
  
Aisha looked back towards the drawer, frowning. How in the hell was she supposed to get her mom's wallet now?  
  
She considered for a moment turning back and giving up. But the rumble of her stomach and the smell of the pizza shop across the street pushed her onward.  
  
Biting her lip, Aisha lifted a baggie out of the drawer. Plastic crinkled like a firecracker going off and Aisha winced, waiting for her mom to jump out of bed and whip her something fierce.  
  
The moment never came and the snoring went on.  
  
Aisha sighed as she looked at her mom. She had to be so fucking high.  
  
With a little less care, Aisha sifted through the drawer, pushing aside baggies until she found her mom's wallet. It had fourteen bucks. The new boyfriend clearly wasn't interested in sharing anything more than his drugs. Aisha took ten and put the wallet and all the baggies back. She made a token effort to set everything back where she found it, but she doubted her mom would ever notice.  
  
Going out, Aisha didn't even try sneaking. She didn't know why she even bothered to begin with. It wasn't like anyone ever paid attention to her.  
  
From her room, Aisha got her favorite jacket, it was black leather with a white stripe crossing the shoulders. It was a little big on her, the sleeves going past her wrists, but that was just part of what made it cool. It also accounted for like 90% of her outfit, the rest being a puny tank-top and an even punier pair of short-shorts.  
  
She headed out the apartment and down the stairs, the lure of pizza taking her down the steps two at a time.  
  
Good ol' Archie's Original Pizza, cardboard crust and plastic cheese, but damn if they weren't cheap and cheap sounded like just what Aisha needed.  
  
Past lunch and still too early for dinner, the shop was empty save for one employee.  
  
"Gimme two plain," Aisha said before sitting down.  
  
The man behind the counter - whose arms were far hairier than Aisha was entirely comfortable with having near her food - nodded wordlessly and put two pizza slices into the oven.  
  
Truthfully, Aisha was hungry enough that she would have been fine eating the pizza cold. An underrated way of eating pizza in Aisha's opinion. But that might just have been a taste acquired by necessity. Aisha didn't have a microwave at home, at least, not a working one.  
  
Hot pizza was a treat then. Something to savor. Aisha imagined the cheese actually soft and melted.  
  
"Hey, two slices."  
  
"And two for me."  
  
A pair of white guys strolled into the shop. One had a buzz-cut, the other a mop of blonde hair. Both wore matching leather jackets.  
  
Ripping her style, it bothered Aisha more than she'd care to admit that their jacket was so similar to hers. Buzz-cut noticed as well and popped a smirk as he caught sight of her.  
  
"Hey, nice jacket," he said.  
  
Ugh, was he actually talking to her. Wow they had similar jackets, what a perfect opening for a conversation, right? Not to mention the guy was probably ten years older than her. Aisha just wanted some fucking pizza.  
  
"Thanks," she said.  
  
It was the perfect monosyllable, terse response. Take the hint and fuck off, Aisha thought.  
  
Buzz-cut looked over at his buddy, still smirking. Mop-head gave a snort and walked off, going to the back of the store. Looking for the bathroom probably.  
  
Buzz-cut turned back to Aisha. He had not taken the hint. "Where'd you get it?" he asked.  
  
Aisha let out a sigh. Her options were A. ignore him, B. meekly go along with the conversation, or C. tell him to fuck off.  
  
"Can you do me a favor?" Aisha said.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Leave me the fuck alone? Thanks."  
  
His eyes opened wide and for a moment all he did was stare at her. Would he explode with anger? Or would he mutter "bitch" under his breath and walk away?  
  
The shock faded and Buzz-cut just shook his head, chuckling. "Fucking hell." He looked over at the man behind the counter. "Is the pizza done or what?"  
  
The man was about to say no, but thought better of it. "Yeah, sure thing," he said. He opened the oven up and pulled out four slices. "That'll be six dollars."  
  
Buzz-cut gave a look over his shoulder. At Aisha? Or beyond her. Then turning back to the man. "Here." He handed over a twenty dollar bill.  
  
_Ding_ went the register as the man rang him up.  
  
A gun came out, the barrel pressing against the man's forehead. "Hold it, motherfucker," Buzz-cut said. His smirk had returned.  
  
Aisha felt her blood freeze. Just her fucking luck that the one time she got pizza, she'd be in the middle of a robbery. Could she call Brian? No, she didn’t have her phone on her, the pizza shop was literally one block away from her house.  
  
"Fill the bag," Buzz-cut barked, tossing a paper sack to the man behind the counter.  
  
Aisha needed to get the fuck out of here. She started to stand, hoping the robber wouldn't notice.  
  
"Where do you think you're going, bitch?"  
  
Behind her, sticking a gun against the back of her head was Mop-head.  
  
"Sit the fuck down."  
  
Slowly, Aisha sat the fuck down.  
  
"Hey, keep an eye on her!" Buzz-cut shouted over his shoulder. "I don't want her moving an inch."  
  
Mop-head smiled at Aisha. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you."  
  
This was bad. Pretty much as bad as things could get. Aisha's hands went to her pockets and started rummaging inside. Lint, lint, a ten dollar bill, a crumpled receipt and more fucking lint. It had probably been too much to expect something like a gun to magically appear in her pocket.  
  
She stared at the man behind the counter, he was emptying the register of every last bill. It wouldn't take long for him to finish, it wasn't like this place was flush with cash to begin with. Then once he was done…  
  
Aisha peered at Mop-head, trying to ignore the gun barrel drilling into her skull. Their eyes met and Aisha flinched.  
  
He was staring right at her.  
  
She needed to get out of here. She had just wanted some pizza. She was just fucking hungry. Aisha couldn't shake his stare now that she knew it was there. She needed to get out. But the fucker was right there. The gun was right on her. She could hear him breathing, his stare penetrating her.  
  
"Th-that's everything," said the man behind the counter, handing over the sack of cash.  
  
"Thanks, bud. Nothing personal." Buzz-cut took the sack. Then still with that damn smirk, he turned his attention to Aisha.  
  
His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "Oh, hey," he said, pointing the gun at her. "Nice jacket."  
  
Aisha froze. Her breath caught in her throat. The world turned over on its side and went black.  


* * *

  
_In downtown Brockton Bay, a remarkable story of bravery. A robbery at a small pizza shop was thwarted by a part-time employee. The man, Argo Lewis was held at gunpoint by a pair of Empire Eighty-Eight thugs, but still managed to find the opportunity to not only disarm them, but tie them up long enough for the police to arrive._  
  
_Mr. Lewis had this to say for himself:_  
  
_"I'm not entirely sure what happened. One moment, they were holding me up, the next I was-"_  
  
Aisha changed the channel. She put on a cartoon. Something a little lighter to go along with her meal.  
  
She scooped a slice of pizza up and struggled to get the cheese to separate from the rest of the pie. Eventually she was forced to stick her tongue out and slurp the hanging cheese, severing the connection.  
  
It was way better than Archie's. And way easier to just have it delivered.  
  
Aisha sat back, grinning even as she chewed. Brian sure made a fuss over nothing, having powers was awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something simple I wrote up real quick. I'm not dead, but I'm not "back" either.
> 
> Anyways, I hoped you enjoy this quick take on Aisha's trigger event. (Which I know is wildly inaccurate and misplaced in the timeline.)


	10. Chili Night

The woman set her basket down and bent low, inspecting the array of deli meats behind the glass counter. Hunks of ham, slabs of bologna and marbled turkey lay inside, fully illuminated under fluorescent light.  
  
"What can I get you, miss?" said the man behind the counter. He wore a hairnet, a white apron and a well-practiced smile.  
  
The woman reared up and then up some more until she stood fully straight, a head taller than the grocer. She looked to him, her eyes sliding deliberately in their sockets until she fixed him square in her sights.  
  
"Beef," she said. "Ground."  
  
"Ah, we don't uh." The grocer found himself fidgeting. The woman's stare penetrated him and he was forced to look away. "Sorry, ma'am, we don't sell unpackaged beef here."  
  
She stared at him.  
  
"But, uh, if you're looking for the ground beef, you can find it over there," the grocer pointed to the raw meats section of the grocery store. He only managed the deli counter, but he still knew what was where.  
  
The woman didn't look to where he pointed. She only had eyes for him it seemed.  
  
"Fresh?"  
  
The grocer blinked. "Sorry, what?"  
  
The woman's stare was unshakeable. "Fresh?" She asked again.  
  
"I'm sorry, I-I don't know what you mean."  
  
Her jaw clenched and the grocer could _see_ it. The way the muscles in her neck and cheeks grew taut, a hardness coming to her face, one that only emphasized a hardness that had already been there. "Is it. Fresh?" she asked, her voice strained.  
  
"Sure," the grocer blurted. "I mean, yeah. It's fresh. Good stuff, really."  
  
"Hm." The woman didn't move. She didn't blink. She might not have even been breathing. Before the grocer could muster the courage to ask what was wrong, the woman spoke. "Thank you."  
  
"Oh, you're wel..."  
  
The woman was already walking away.  
  
The grocer watched as she went over to the raw meats and picked up a package of ground beef. She stared at it with the same intensity that she had drilled the grocer with. It must have passed her inspection though because after a moment, she dropped the package into her grocery basket. Then four more in quick succession, maybe ten pounds in all went into the basket.  
  
With quiet fascination, the grocer watched as the woman hesitated over a sixth package. Her expression was unreadable, but her fingers gripped the plastic of the package so tight, it looked about to-  
  
The package bursted open. Oodles of beef oozed out, getting all over the woman's hands and dropping to the floor.  
  
She looked up from the ruined package and her eyes met with the grocer's.  
  
The grocer turned away, suddenly interested in the whiteness of the wall.  
  
He thought about whistling, but that probably would have only been more conspicuous. In the corner of his eye, he could see the woman walking towards him.  
  
She stopped just short of plowing into the glass counter.  
  
The grocer tried to put his lips together to whistle, but all he ended up doing was blow hot air. The wall was _especially_ white.  
  
After a long moment, the woman finally pulled away. The grocer chanced a glance and saw the woman was heading out the door without paying for any of the beef.  
  
"Hey!" One of the cashiers said, trying to get in the woman's way.  
  
A new hire, poor kid had only been working here for a week. He got within five feet of the woman before he dropped to the floor, convulsing like a dying fish.  
  
The woman walked on unimpeded, right out of the grocery store. Hopefully for good.  
  
The grocer let out a long breath.  
  
Fucking capes.  
  
First thing you learned working a shop in Brockton Bay was how to spot a cape. Weirdos, crazies, capes, they all overlapped.  
  
The grocer looked over to the kid who had tried to stop the woman. He was still breathing, no longer convulsing and in the arms of another cashier who whispered soothingly that an ambulance was on the way.  
  
Second thing you learned was how to keep your head down.  
  


* * *

  
"Here." Butcher dropped the basket on the countertop from too high and it spilled over, sending the packs of ground beef out.  
  
"Hey, watch it!" Hemorrhagia cried as she caught a pack.  
  
Butcher watched. A voice offered its power, _she doesn't get to talk to like you that, make her hurt._  
  
"Sorry," Butcher said.  
  
"Whatever, forget it," Hemorrhagia said, waving her hand, still holding the beef. "Just get out of my kitchen, I don't want you klutzing up dinner."  
  
Butcher stared at Hemorrhagia. She had a small head. It would be easy to crush.  
  
"Tonight is going to be my specialty," Hemorrhagia said with a proud little smile. "Chili. You like it spicy, right?"  
  
 _No._  
  
"Yes," Butcher said.  
  
Hemorrhagia bumped her elbow against Butcher and winked. "You got it, boss." With a bounce in her step, Hemorrhagia headed over to the refridgerator and started pulling out ingredients.  
  
Butcher's stomach rumbled at the thought of Hemorrhagia's chili. Hemorrhagia would live. At least until dinner was done.  
  
"Ah motherfuck!" Hemorrhagia screamed at a volume not meant for indoors _or_ outdoors.  
  
 _Nevermind, kill her now. Rip her tongue out._  
  
"What?" Butcher asked, her fist clenched.  
  
Hemorrhagia groaned. "The peppers! I don't have any bell peppers! I can't make my motherfucking chili without the motherfucking bell peppers!"  
  
Butcher frowned. It was true, it would not be Hemorrhagia's chili without the peppers.  
  
Hemorrhagia sighed, rolling her eyes. "Can you go get'em? That should be the last thing I need."  
  
Butcher's frown deepened as she remembered how she left the grocery store. Everyone staring at her. At the mess she made. Beef everywhere.  
  
Butcher could never go back.  
  
 _Should've killed all the witnesses._  
  
"Get Spree to do it," Butcher said.  
  
"Spree said he was bus-"  
  
Butcher was already walking away. Her gatling gun needed polishing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Harbin, "Butcher goes home to a terribly domestic normal life."
> 
> In Worm 21.6, Hemorrhagia made some chili for her team, the Teeth. It would've been a great meal and a great night if it wasn't for health hazard and unforgivable monster, Skitter filling it with cockroaches.
> 
> The chili was innocent, Taylor. The hand that cooked it might have been a villain, but damnit, _the chili was innocent._


	11. Modern Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Instead of atom-splitting, Parian gets Hoyden's power." Prompt by Harbin.
> 
> (Hoyden's the one with explosion fists.)

The longer Lily stared at the rock, the more certain she was that she was too dumb to "get it."  
  
"I think I'm just dumb," Lily said.  
  
"Lily…" Emily sighed. "It's _art._ Just say whatever comes to mind."  
  
Lily stared at the rock.  
  
"It looks like a rock."  
  
"And…?"  
  
"And uh." Lily looked around the art gallery, hoping for some kind of clue. But like most galleries, this one was bare of any decorations besides the “art." Her only clue was a tiny placard nearby. It read "No. 62 - Parian"  
  
Lily grit her teeth. Emily looked at her expectantly.  
  
"It's kind of rubble-ish," Lily said, hating herself. "Like it got blown out of a building."  
  
Emily covered her face with her hands and emitted a sound that probably translated to something like "Oh my god, you really are dumb."  
  
When Emily finally pulled her hands away, she couldn't bring herself to look at Lily. "I'm going to go over there." She pointed to another rock, a tall marble one that looked like it had been sculpted with a giant hole puncher. "Can you just get some of the hors d'oeuvres?"  
  
Lily sighed. "Sure."  
  
What had Emily expected of her? Lily had warned her that she didn't know the first thing about "art." But Emily had insisted they go and Lily couldn't say no.  
  
Now she was being exiled to the snack table like a five year old. Lily got a plate and inspected her options. She was immediately just as lost as before.  
  
The most Lily could say for certain, was that it was Mediterranean. Most of the table was taken up by dipping sauces, there was some white stuff, green stuff, varying shades of orange stuff and something that Lily was pretty sure was hummus. For solids, there was pita bread, celery, baby carrots, and some sort of spring roll. Lily hesitated over the last one. It looked like a spring roll, but the exterior was dark green. Leafy.  
  
Lily leaned in a little closer. It was actually a leaf.  
  
"It's dolma."  
  
Lily jerked upright. "Sorry?"  
  
A girl stood just behind Lily with a plate of her own. She had coffee-colored skin and wore a collared suit jacket over a black shirt and pants. She was a full foot shorter and Lily had to dip her head to look at her. She smiled politely as she pointed at the green spring roll. "That's dolma. Stuffed grape leaves."  
  
"Oh," Lily looked back at the green spring rolls - dolma. "Is it good?" she asked.  
  
The girl gave a small laugh. " _I_ think so. They're my favorite. Here." She reached over, brushing against Lily to get at the tongs and plopped a dolma onto Lily's plate. "Give it a try. I want to know what you think."  
  
"Ha," Lily laughed inexplicitly, "Sure." She picked up the dolma with her fingers, looking to the girl to make sure she was doing it right.  
  
The girl nodded patiently, still smiling.  
  
Lily felt like a kid going out in costume for the first time. Excited. Nervous. Suddenly unsure of how to do even the most basic things. Was she opening her mouth too wide? Was she breathing too hard? Oh god, her face wasn't red, was it? Stop taking too long and just eat it already!  
  
Lily took a bite of the dolma.  
  
Her mouth exploded with flavor and with it still full, Lily blurted, "Esh gud!"  
  
Lily clamped a hand over her lips. Talking with her mouth full? She really was like a five year old. She paused to swallow, hoping against all odds that her cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "It's really, really good. Sour, but in a good way. Zesty."  
  
The girl grinned. "I'm glad to hear it. At least there's _something_ of mine that you enjoyed today."  
  
Lily blinked. "What?"  
  
Before the girl could answer a man in a suit walked over, a phone in his hands. "Miss Amari, there's a call for you. It's from Moma."  
  
There was a moment where the girl only glared at the man. Whoever this Moma was, she clearly didn't care for them interrupting her. But with a sigh, she relented.  
  
"Sorry," she said to Lily, "I have to take this call. It was nice meeting you..."  
  
"Lily."  
  
The girl smiled. "I'm Sabah. It was very nice to meet you, Lily. I hope you'll take a second look at the… rocks. Maybe you'll find one you like."  
  
“Sure, I…” Lily trailed off, a connection starting to form in her head.  
  
Sabah gave her one last smile, then put the phone to her ear and walked away.  
  
Lily stared as the girl left the gallery, the man following close behind. There was no way…  
  
"Oh my god!" A voice whispered at shouting volume. Emily pulled up alongside Lily, breathless. "Were you just talking to Parian?!"  
  
"Uh."  
  
"Lily!"  
  
Holy crap, she really was dumb.


End file.
